


Endangered

by orphan_account



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Angst, Carrying, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, I promise, Ive worked hard..., M/M, Miscarraige, Not a Mary Sue, Smut, Sparklings, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, good ending, i worked hard to not make the oc a mary sue...tell me if i failed, sparked
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-03-03 19:51:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13348317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Nova finds herself in a deadly predicament when her mate is out on a voyage across the stars. She'd found herself in these types of scenarios before, but not when she's carrying a sparkling her mate doesn't even know she has.





	1. Through the stars

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is short, I know. Also, I don't know how to write summaries
> 
> help

Nearly everyone had gone through this at some point in time. Watching their mate’s space craft fly off with a squadrant of other soldiers, hurling through the stars to get to yet another battle. A battle where they may or may not make it out alive. 

And yet, it never got easier. There was still a lingering sense of remorse and pain whenever it happened. 

But this time was different. 

This time, there was a new pain in her optics as she watched the streak of light disappear. Not only pain, but fear too. 

Primus, how she wanted to see that ship come back. 

The mech at her side turned his helm towards her in a wistful manner. Although a visor covered his optics, the sorrowful expression he held was still noticeable. 

“Do you think I should’ve told him?” she asked. 

Jazz’ lip twitched. “No.” he said. 

He’s lying, she thought.

“He’ll be back in time.” he continued. “This mission’s long, but not that long.”

“What if something goes wrong?” Nova muttered. “And the mission is delayed, what then?”

Jazz looked down. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” he paused. “If we get to it.”

Nova nodded, accepting his answer. Or at least wanting to. 

They stood in place for a little while longer, in front of the large window, watching the streak of light as it disappeared into the stars. Jazz’s optics trailed off to Nova’s chassis, where a tiny spark was supposedly nestled against hers. 

So they thought. It was a bit early to tell. Nova refused to go to the med bay, saying that she didn’t want to cause a commotion. So without a scan run by advanced medical equipment, the only way they confirm that she was carrying a sparkling was by visually seeing it. 

By the third decacycle, the carrier could open their spark chamber and see the sparklet. Until that check point, there was no way verify that they were carrying.   
Jazz of course, practically begged her to go to the med bay. After she told him that she couldn’t tell Smokescreen, he went into a state of temporary panic and nearly demanded that she go see Ratchet. 

By that point, it was only a few cycles until Smokescreen’s departure. There wasn’t any time to find someone else to lead the troops into the enemy base.

Jazz was torn from his thoughts when Nova shifted. 

“I should be able to see the new spark in two cycles.” she said. 

“Then will you go see Ratchet?” Jazz almost cringed. 

It was a touchy subject. And he said it loudly to the point where it echoed throughout the halls. He hoped no one was near by.

“We’ll see.” she answered flatly.


	2. Intel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit longer, next one should be a fuck ton longer... I think

She’d been avoiding this for quite sometime now. But now it was inevitable. The signs of carrying were getting more extreme, nausea, fatigue, dizziness. 

Nova was standing in her wash racks. The counter and mirror was in front of her. She looked up and saw herself in the mirror, a red femme bracing herself against the countertop, her frame tense and her shoulder hiked up. 

She straightened up and rolled her helm. Her digits ghosted their way around her chassis, tracing the seams and stroking the plating. 

Her optics closed and she unfolded the slabs of metal that was her chassis and spark chamber. For a few kliks, she remained in that position, standing still with her servos placed on the edges of her chassis and she closed her optics. 

Finally, she onlined her them. And sure enough it was there. A tiny ball of light circling around her spark. 

Her optics went wide and she swallowed. She scrambled for a second mirror servo held to prove what she was seeing. 

The smaller mirror showed the same thing, a small sphere of light orbiting around hers.

Her servos began to tremble. She closed her spark chamber and threw the mirror down so hard she was sure it broke. 

Nova’s pedes carried her backwards until she was backed up against the wall. What now? Smokescreen was gone. She couldn’t go to Ratchet. He’d be legally obliged to tell the other officers, then where would she be?

There was no telling what they’d do. Would they discharge her? Would she be charged with the crime of endangering her sparkling? 

And what if Smokescreen wasn’t back in time? She’d already calculated the correspondence with his ETA and her estimated due date. He’d be back in time, but they’d be cutting it close. 

Nova took a deep breath and slid down the wall. As long as Smokescreen came back by the twentieth decacycle, they’d be fine. 

A carrier needed the sire to merge with them to ensure the sparkling’s growth. Without their added energy, the carrier’s frame would deplete itself of energy in an attempt to keep them both online, putting both the sparkling and the carrier in jeopardy.

The sire would typically start merging with the carrier between the tenth and the seventeenth decacycle. It was when the sparkling officially moved from the carrier’s spark to their gestation chamber so their protoform could develop. That was usually the roughest stage for a carrier, and thus the most important. Hopefully, Smokescreen would be there for it. 

But first things first, she needed to talk to Ratchet. Maybe not this cycle, or the one after that, but eventually. 

He’d be pissed, that’s for sure. Might scream and yell and throw things. But as Jazz said before, it was for the best. 

She’d have to face his wrath. She’d have to face carrying alone. Even if it was out of her control and she did nothing to cause it, she’d have to do it.

* * *

Every sound she heard was amplified. The tapping of digits against the table, the scribbling of styluses against data pads, the low voices of her comrades. 

She had read that carriers’ senses would often heighten when with spark. It could be seen as either good or bad, she assumed.

Nova had noticed it for the past few cycles. It was nothing to worry over; she had expected it. Although it seemed to have increased tenfold since this meeting began. 

Perhaps it was the topic they were talking about. She had also read that stress could add to a carrier’s heightened senses.

She glanced around the room. She was the only femme in the room. That wasn’t new, but it was the first time she’d really noticed it. 

Nova was larger than many of the other officers, so intimidation was never a problem for her. Until now. 

Now, she felt paranoid around them. And she hated it. She had grown to enjoy these mechs and their company, but now all she wanted to do was run away and hide. 

“The ship will likely be here within two cycles.” Prowl said. 

Nova picked up her helm from where it rested on her balled servo. She looked to the map on the wall, then to Prowl sitting across from her. 

“We have plenty of time to prepare as long as we alert the crew immediately.” he continued. 

Nova stiffened. There’d be confrontation. She looked at the map again. 

The Decepticon ship had no doubt already locked onto their location. There would be no retreat, no chance to surrender. They had to fight them head on. 

“Nova.” she heard. It was the Prime. “Would you be capable of tracking this ship and gathering intel?”

She leaned back in her chair. “Of course.” she answered coolly. 

Nova was often presented with these kinds of assignments. Being the Officer of Intelligence, it was her job to decipher and catalog information. 

Granted, Nova did much more than what was in her job description. Unlike some of the other officers, she was almost always seen in battle. It wasn’t mandatory for her to fight. In fact, there had been past instances when she was ordered by the Prime himself to stay out of the battle in fear of her doing something she could not undo. 

After the meeting, she immediately went to her office. She gathered all the data pads she had regarding Decepticon war ships. 

In order to predict what kind of troops the Decepticons were bringing, she’d need to identify the ship. Certain ships carried certain soldiers. She just hoped it wasn’t the Nemesis. 

Red Alert would be running scans on the ship to determine extra details that could aid her. Her time was limited. She needed to gather as much intel as possible in the next few joors so Prowl could come up with a strategy.

* * *

She laid out her data pads onto her desk and plopped down in her chair. Nova rarely worked in her office at this point. Since the start of the war she always took her work to her quarters. No one would bother her there. 

And while her quarters sounded rather appealing, she couldn’t bring herself to drag her pedes all the way there. Besides, she’d likely fall into recharge as soon as she got there. 

She leaned back in her chair and propped her knee against the rim on her desk. Her optics wandered towards the data pad in front of her. 

In her processors, she knew that she wouldn’t be able to concentrate. Her mind would drift elsewhere and she’d never get anything done.

It was a dangerous state of mind. Especially in her position. 

Nova was an officer. Not only that, but she was one of the most famed officers amongst both the Autobots and Decepticons. 

There was a price set on her helm. A high one at that. Nearly every time they stopped at a neutral run planet, someone would come looking for her. 

It was usually in a bar. 

She, Smokescreen, Jazz, and sometimes a few others, would go out for a few drinks. A few joors in, a hitman would make himself known. They’d always wait until she’d had a few drinks, thinking that she’d be set off her game if she was overcharged. 

They’d set off a few shots, sometimes aimed at the sky, sometimes aimed at her. The ones who aimed towards the sky were always overly confident, wearing a sinister grin and radiating arrogance. 

The ones who aimed at her, however, were anything but. Their servos trembled as they rapidly pulled the trigger. Once the smoke and debris cleared, they’d back away in terror when they saw Nova sitting at the bar, still as ever. 

It all went to Pit from there. 

A few times, she remembered Smokescreen making bets with Jazz on how soon someone would try to kill them. A small frown tugged on her face plates, making her neutral expression darken. 

She’d missed Smokescreen before, but never like this. Her servos reached for a stylus. She wanted to distract herself with work. That’d work. She just needed a distraction. 

Her digits fiddled with the stylus for a moment. Then she hovered it over the data pad, poised and ready to write. 

Her servo began to shake. She remained calm as the stylus fell out of her servo and onto the table. It rolled several inches away from her. Her optics followed it until it stopped.

In an instant she grasped it and broke it in two. There was a satisfying snap in her palm and she could feel it give and bend. 

Nova opened her palm slowly and let the pieces trickle onto the desk. They bounced and rolled off the desk. The few that remained she flicked individually onto the floor. 

With a huff she flopped back into her chair and let her helm hang off the side. She really wasn’t going to get any work done.

* * *

Prowl lazily scrolled through the data Nova had submitted to him. He had to admit, he’d seen her do better. Maybe she was just tired.

“Still enough to formulate a plan.” he muttered. 

He pushed himself off his chair and walked up to the map on the wall. There were two blinking lights. One was their ship. The other was the Decepticon ship steadily approaching. 

The ship would be upon them by tomorrow, meaning he had to work fast and swift. The rest of the crew was already notified and knew to prepare for battle. All they needed now was orders from Prowl. 

He huffed a sigh and rolled his shoulders. “Going to be a long night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit choppier than I would've liked but what ever. Tell me what you guys think! Thanks for reading!


	3. Missed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lol what

Nova came rushing into the control room. She pushed the doors open and slipped through the crowds of other officers and officials. They were all talking and urgently rushing around. 

“What happened?” she yelled. 

Jazz appeared beside her and put a servo on her shoulder. “We’ve run into a problem.” he paused and shrugged. “Er… I guess it’s better to say that we haven’t.”

Nova’s doorwings flicked in surprise. She narrowed her optics and glanced at the screens on the wall. Other soldiers milled around them, bringing data pads and other knowledge. 

She walked towards the screen that had other officers crowding around it. She pushed through the others and scanned the screen. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked. 

Prowl grimaced and stepped forward. “It appears that the ship we were suppose to cross paths with,” he said. “Never stopped.”

“What?”

“They kept going.”

Nova glanced over at the screens and read the data on the sides. They should’ve crossed paths nearly half a joor ago. 

Jazz appeared behind her once more. She examined the area around her, the other officers had dispersed around them, giving orders and talking to others. 

“We’re having an officer’s meeting in two joors to discuss what happened and where we go from here.” Jazz said. 

Nova looked to him and then back to the screens. An air on uneasiness grew at her silence. Jazz’ vidor dimmed ever so slightly as he studied her. 

The grip on her shoulder tightened. “Are you alright?”

She jumped ever so slightly, just enough so Jazz could feel it. “Yes, of course.”

Jazz bit back a sigh and tore his vision away from her, trying to make their conversation seem normal. “Have you been resting?” he asked in the quietest voice he could muster. 

“I have.”

Jazz’ helm dipped. “Now, I know you’ve heard me say this a lot, but it’s important.”

“I’ll go to Ratchet soon.” she answered. 

Jazz pursed his lips and nodded. He gave Nova a firm pat on the back. “I’ll see you at the meeting.”

* * *

“Has this ever happened before?” Prowl asked. 

“No.” Nova said. “There’s nothing like this in my database.”

“Nothin’?” Ironhide interjected. 

Nova shook her helm. “Nothing. I don’t think this has ever happened before.” 

“They must be hiding something.” Red Alert blurted. “Decepticons live for confrontation!”

Optimus, sitting at the head of the table, raised his servo to calm the commotion before it started. 

“This is all very concerning, but we should focus on the facts instead of making assumptions.” he said. “Now, I think it’d be best if we assemble a small team to investigate on board the ship.”

Jazz perked up a bit. A possible solo mission. While it would be a good opportunity for him to leave the ship, he couldn’t leave Nova alone. 

“I might be able to send Mirage on it.” he leaned back in his chair. “Maybe send someone to go with him.”

Optimus nodded at his proposal. “In the meantime, we’ll need to collect more data and do a complete scan of our ship and theirs.”

It was protocol to run complete scans of the entire ship after confrontation with an enemy to make sure they didn’t “leave anything behind”. There was no real confrontation this time, but it was still a good way to keep Red Alert busy. 

Nova rested on the arm of her chair to relax herself. She resisted the urge to place a servo on her chassis. 

It was practically radiating heat by now. Whether or not it was normal, she couldn't tell. 

Nova was highly uneducated when it came to carrying. And it wasn’t like she could go read up on it. All the literature containing information on this subject was in Ratchet’s med bay. 

There were a few instances when she’d wanted to sneak in there and grab a few data pads, but the risk of being caught was far too high. 

To compromise, she crossed her arms over her chassis in a way to “protect” herself without anyone noticing.

Without her realization, Optimus called the meeting to an end. She hurriedly collected her things, wanting to make an escape to her quarters and recharge the rest of the day.

As she was exiting the meeting room, Ratchet caught her attention. 

“Nova.” he said. “You have a routine check up scheduled in three cycles.”

She momentarily froze. 

A check up? No. There must be some sort of mistake. 

“Really?” she said in the calmest voice she could muster. “I’ll be there.” 

Ratchet gave her a curt nod and left. 

WIthout speaking to anyone, she hurried back to her office. Her quarters were too far away she’d never make it. 

Her pedes fumbled as she crashed through the door and collapsed onto the ground. She was on her servos and knees, panting. 

They’d scan her spark and expose her. What would they do then? Would they make her terminate it? Would she be sentenced to exile for committing treason? Primus, the list went on. 

What would Smokescreen say? Her beloved mate didn’t deserve this. She could only imagine what he’d say when he came home to this mess. 

She hoisted herself to sit on her knees. She was shaking uncontrollably. 

Nova scooted over to the desk and rested her back against it. Her next course of action would have to be a plan. 

What if Smokescreen got back from his mission sooner than expected. Then she could tell him and have him help her fix this mess. But what if he was late?

If she asked to cancel the check up, Ratchet would suspect something and only insist harder. Maybe she could fake an injury that would overshadow the check up. 

But Ratchet was thorough. It was part of the reason he was such a good medic. 

Nova shook her helm and hugged her arms to her chassis. She had three decacycles to come up with a plan, enough time to clear her processors and think. 

She couldn’t bring Jazz into this one. He’d be on Ratchet’s side and convince her to go in. 

Through it all, she knew Jazz wouldn’t tell anyone. Jazz was a mech who kept his word no matter what.

* * *

(Flash Back)

The battle had been raging on for hours. At this point Smokescreen had lost track of everyone. They were either an ally or an enemy. 

He often got like this when a battle got too extreme. It was a state of mind where he was over run with adrenaline. It was either kill or be killed. While being in this mentality was horrible, coming down from it was Pit. 

His pedes carried him through the battlefield, frame rigid and heaving to keep him going. The enormous gun in his servo clattered with his shield. It was getting harder and harder to lug around these weapons, he was getting tired. 

Smokescreen gritted his dentae and pushed forward. He couldn’t be tiring out already. Tiring out meant death, something he could not accept. 

There was a commotion through the chaos a little ways in front of him. He charged towards it, having a bad feeling about what was happening. 

There was a small group of Decepticons crowding around something. Whatever that ‘something’ was, he didn’t like it. 

He crept towards them from behind, his shield held in front of him and his gun poised. Upon closer inspection, he found the Decepticons to be the seeker trine. 

Shouldn’t they be in the air?

Smokescreen shook his helm and slunk closer. They were standing around two soldiers, guns pointed at them. That wasn’t good. 

With newfound determination, he lunged forward and fired off a few shots in their direction. The seekers whirled around, only to see an Autobot officer charging in their direction. 

Thundercracker grabbed Smokescreen by the throat and slammed him down into the ground. Small cracks formed in the dirt from the titan brawl. 

Smokescreen struggled for a few seconds before seeing something bright red in the corner of is vision. 

Kneeling before the seekers, was Nova, his mate. And beside her was his dear friend, Jazz. Both of which were wounded and nearly unconscious. 

Smokescreen was paralyzed. The battle was nothing but white noise to him now. 

Nova shouldn’t be here. She was supposed to be inside the base as a medic. And even then, that was pushing it for her. 

His optics went wide as he watched Starscream point his gun at her torso. Nova didn’t seem to notice. She was looking right back at Smokescreen, staring into his optics and wondering why he wasn't staring back. 

Starscream quipped a small smirk and squeezed the trigger. There was a pop, a screech, then nothing. 

Smokescreen’s panicked vents came to a sudden stop. He watched as his mate fell on her side, clutching the wound in her abdomen. 

His senses came back to him in a rush; the battle, the seekers, everything. With one smooth movement, he swung the barrel of his gun into Thundercracker’s face. The seeker fell to the side, clutching his new wound. 

Smokescreen hopped to his pedes and barreled into the other two. He pressed his gun against Skywarp’s chassis and stepped behind Nova’s frame. 

Starscream looked between his two trine mates and quickly determined that this was not a fight worth fighting. He sneered in Smokescreen’s direction and motioned for the others to transform and follow him. 

Once Smokescreen was sure they were gone, he dropped the gun and pulled Nova off the ground. She had already gone limp. Energon was steadily draining from her wound and getting on Smokescreen. 

He gripped the side of her helm and forced her to face him. There was energon on his servos that was smearing on her helm. Whose it was, he couldn’t be sure. 

“Nova.” the sound he made was more of a whimper. 

She didn’t do anything. 

He gripped her tighter. “Nova.”

His servos were shaking even more now, so much he could hardly maintain his grip on her. 

There was suddenly a servo roughly placed on his arm. It whirled him around, so harshly, he nearly attacked whoever was behind it. 

A red mech, almost as tall as he was, was looming over him. Ironhide. 

“Smokescreen, what happened?” he said. 

Smokescreen looked up at the red mech, struggling to find his voice. “I-I-I don’t know.” he said. 

Ironhide stepped past him and went to Jazz. Smokescreen almost cringed. He forgot about Jazz for a second. 

“I’ve already commed. Ratchet.” Ironhide said. “We just need to get these two back to base. I’ve already got back up on their way to cover us.”

He’s much calmer than normal, Smokescreen couldn’t help but acknowledge. But there was still a panicked look in his optic. 

He knew about Nova. All the officers did. 

Their backup arrived shortly after he said that. Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Hound, and Mirage showed up. A bit much for a backup crew, but two wounded officers must garner a lot of attention, Smokescreen assumed. 

Ironhide picked Jazz up and began their trek back to base. Smokescreen and the other soldiers followed suit. 

It was a nearly constant struggle of running then hiding. It seemed to go on forever. Everytime Smokescreen glanced down at the femme in his arms, he just wanted to run and throw her into the med bay. 

The base was in sight. A line of guards were standing outside the entrance to make sure no Decepticons slipped through. 

As they ran past, Mirage showed them his badge before continuing with the others. The twins ran ahead and opened the doors for Ironhide and Smokescreen. 

Ironhide placed Jazz on the nearest medical berth. Smokescreen, however, had to follow Ratchet further into the med bay. 

Ratchet stopped next to a medical berth in an area that wasn’t as hectic. Smokescreen gently laid Nova across the berth. 

For a few moments, Smokescreen stopped at her side and ogled at her frame. His wings drooped and his posture slumped. 

Ratchet glanced at him for a brief moment before resuming his work. He hovered over her frame and began attaching scanners and monitors. Information was fed from these machines and onto the screen. 

The medics servos went flying over an array of tools, grabbing one to pinch the severed energon lines. All the while, Smokescreen stood there. Occasionally, Ratchet would glimpse at him to see that he was wearing the same expression. 

“Smokescreen,” he said. 

There was no reply. 

A bit louder, he said, “Smokescreen.”

Smokescreen jumped slightly and focused on the medic working on his mate. “Yes?”

Ratchet placed his tools on the side table and grabbed a new one. “I need to know how this happened.”

“H-how?” Smokescreen stuttered. 

The incident happened moments ago, but he could hardly remember what had happened. He was on the battlefield, saw the seekers, then...nothing. Everything was a blur after that. 

“Smokescreen.” Ratchet said again. “Stay focused.”

He directed his attention to the medic before him. “I don’t remember.”

Ratchet shook his helm and continued with his work. “Why was she on the field?”

His helm tilted upwards and his wings rose. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Ratchet scoffed in a lighthearted manner. “Don’t look at me. I ordered her to stay in the med bay.” He straightened back out and looked at the monitor, his helm staying directed at Nova. “And look what happened.” he growled. 

Smokescreen’s optics drifted to her chassis. His optics softened as he thought about the past few decacycles, how they’d been a mix between Heaven and Hell. Mostly Heaven, if he was being honest. 

“And her spark?” he whispered. 

Ratchet paused, but only momentarily. Smokescreen, however, noticed the movement. But it was the silence that spoke to him the most. 

“I’m working on it, Smokescreen.” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm also an "animator"
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCiw7znDeyTI9j2gDURHPyeg/videos


	4. Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hella short but whatever

Nova’s heeled pedes clacked as she walked through the hallway to Prowl’s office. He had summoned her kliks before, likely wanting to discuss who would go on the next mission to the Decepticon ship. 

She stood in front of his door for a moment before pressing the button to request access. The door slid open, revealing Prowl standing by his desk, putting data pads onto the shelf in front of him. 

Nova stepped inside and dumped her data pads onto his desk. Prowl gazed at his desk and rolled his optics. 

“You didn’t have to dump them there.” he remarked. 

Nova took a seat on the corner of his desk and hummed. “You have a point.”

Prowl picked a data pad up and began to scroll through it. “What is this?”

“All the data I was able to compile about Decepticon ships.”

“Speaking of which.” Prowl dropped the current data pad and pulled another one out from his desk. “Prime and I have decided who will be going on the mission.”

Nova’s optics narrowed. “I thought Jazz said Mirage would be going.”

Prowl shook his helm. “Mirage has another contradicting mission.”

“Then that leaves…”

Prowl took a step forward and placed the data pad in Nova’s servos. 

“You.”

Nova was sure her spark stopped. A wave of coolness and numbness washed over her frame. Primus, she couldn’t. She’d and the new spark would be slaughtered. 

“M-me?” she sputtered. “Prowl, are you sure?”

“Of course.” he said. “It’s a solo mission, in and out. You’ve done these before.”

“Yes, yes, I know.” she sighed. “But...don’t you think that maybe we’re making too big of a deal out of this?”

“No.” he replied simply and resumed his position back at the shelf. “That ship exhibited unnatural flight patterns and protocols. They very might be hiding something or have something valuable. This is too good of an opportunity to pass up.”

Nova onlined the data pad and began skimming through to see what the assignment would be like. As Prowl said, it was very simple. 

But could she handle it?

In her prime, it would be easy, too easy. But now? Now, this was a life or death matter. 

There was no way she’d be able to execute this like Prowl wanted. It was a chore to even come to his office and give him the data pads. 

She inhaled. “When do I leave?”

“Five cycles.” he said. 

Five cycles, that was soon. 

“How long will I be gone?”

“About seven cycles in all. May be a bit longer depending on how away far the ship has gotten.”

Primus, seven cycles. It wasn’t actually that long, really. But, her sparkling would need CNA samples from Smokescreen soon. 

She couldn’t remember when exactly Smokescreen was set to return, but she knew it was any cycle now. If her own mission ran longer, than there would be a chance of running out of time. 

When Smokescreen had first left, she made some calculations and dictated that he would arrive in time for them to save their sparkling. That is, if she even carried to term. 

“Will you be able to handle this mission, Nova?” he asked, starting to notice her concern. 

She answered quickly, “Of course.”

* * *

Nova yanked open a drawer and dug around in it with her servo. She was looking for a gun, the small pistol Smokescreen liked to use. 

If she was going on a mission alone in her condition, she’d need to be well armed. But not so much that other would notice. If she showed up on the day of her departure looking like she was going on an assassination mission, there’d be questions asked. 

As she grabbed the gun and popped the clip out, she stopped in her tracks. Once the sparkling got here, they couldn’t leave their weapons out like this anymore. 

That is, if the sparkling gets here. 

She bit her lip. Her chances were dwindling by the second. Was it really a good idea to go on this mission?

It bought her some time to figure out a plan that would involve evading Ratchet for a little while longer. At least, until Smokescreen returned. 

But there was a slim chance of it working out in the end. It was mandatory for soldiers to get a scan from a medic after they returned from a mission. It was a protocol put in place to ensure that soldiers stayed in optimal condition at all times. 

She’d be forced to go to the med bay then. They’d scan her, find that her spark had high levels on activity. They’d investigate further and find out she was sparked. 

Then what?

She could be casted out from the Autobots for acts of treason or endangerment to her sparkling. They’d contact Smokescreen and his team, telling him that he needed to get him and his team back to the ship as soon as possible. The Decepticons would no doubt pick up on the radio wave and locate Smokescreen and his troops. Then they’d all be slaughtered before they even got a chance to leave. 

Nova shivered at the thought.


	5. Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yup.

Jazz stood in front of the door to Nova’s quarters. He’d been trying to talk to her all morning, but she wasn’t answering any of his comms. 

She was likely just recharging late. Not that he was complaining. It was good for her. 

And yet, even when he knocked on her door, she didn’t answer. He tried opening it. It was locked. 

Jazz glanced at it one last time before disappearing down the hall. He’d leave her in peace for now. If she really was finally resting, he didn’t want to disturb her. 

He stopped by Prowl’s office. It was a habit developed a lifetime ago to stop by in the morning

Without knocking, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. Prowl never had any meetings in the morning so he knew he wouldn’t be disturbing anything. 

“Prowl,” he said in greeting. 

Prowl was seated at his desk, filling out paperwork and reading reports. “Jazz,” he said. 

“Have you seen Nova around?” Jazz stopped in front of his desk. 

Prowl paused and glared up at him. For a few second, Jazz stared back, completely confused.

“What?” he asked. 

“I gave you a report.” Prowl scooted back in his chair and opened a few drawers in his desk. 

“What report?” Jazz said much quieter now.

“A few days ago, the one about upcoming missions.” Prowl pulled out a data pad.

“Missions?”

“Yes,”

Jazz onlined the data pad, his visor shining bright as he scrolled through the data pad as fast as he could manage.

“Remember that ship we passed?” Prowl asked. “Or did that slip your memory too?”

“Prowl, what are you saying?” Jazz nearly exclaimed.

“We sent Nova on a mission.” Prowl narrowed his optics.

Jazz’ digits went limp. He could feel his frame drop in temperature. The data pad slipped from his servos and clattered on the floor. 

Prowl gave him a look, he hated in when data pads were damaged. “What?” he said. “Are you upset because now both of your favorite drinking buddies are gone?”

Jazz leaned forward and put both palms on Prowl’s desk. “Who approved this mission?” he asked lowly. 

“You did, Jazz.” he said. “Wha-what is going on here? Were you two planning something?”

Jazz’ next words were spoken with calculated intensity. So much that Prowl had no choice but to take him seriously. 

“I’m calling an emergency meeting with you, me, Prime, and Ratchet.”

“Jazz, is this really necessary?” Prowl rested his elbow on the side of his chair. 

“You have no idea.”

* * *

Jazz flopped down in his chair, causing the other mechs in the war room to give him wary glances. They’d never seen Jazz so stressed. Even in the optics of peril, he always seemed so calm.

“What is this about, Jazz?” Ratchet asked, not pleased with being pulled away from his work.

Jazz took one last glance at the report he was reading. “Nova is going to kill me for this.” he started slowly. “And I’m talking a mass murder. She made me swear to secrecy, and I’m only breaching this because if I don’t, there will be more than one life in danger.”

Prowl narrowed his optics. “What is it?”

Jazz huffed a sigh and let the data pad drop on the table. “She’s sparked.”

There was a moment of silence. Almost a humorous silence where the only person being serious was Jazz. A very rare sight. 

“What?” Ratchet almost laughed.

Jazz spoke with anger, “She’s sparked.”

There was a new stillness created after he said it again. And this time, the others started to think it was true. 

“But Jazz,” Prowl said. “There’s no way.”

“There is a way.” Jazz insisted. “And Nova found it on accident.”

Ratchet gripped the edge of the table, nearly denting the metal. “Jazz, if this a joke-”

“I wouldn’t joke about this, Ratchet.” Jazz spat.

Prowl stood up from his chair and marched over to the screen on the side of the wall. He pressed a few buttons and pulled up a map. 

Jazz watched him in silence as he analyzed what was on screen, completely ignoring the conversation between Prime and Ratchet. Primus, whatever was going on inside that processor was beyond him. 

Ratchet took a quick glance at the screen before grimacing. “Primus, and we sent her on that fragging mission.”

“Where is she now, Prowl?” Optimus asked. 

Prowl stepped aside to reveal the map mounted on the wall. “She should be arriving at her destination in about one joor.”

“Is there anyway to send her a message?” Prime asked.

“I’m afraid we’re too late.” Prowl said. “The Decepticons would be able to intercept the signal and pinpoint her location.”

“So what? We’re cut off from her?” Ratchet said. 

“For the moment, yes.”

Ratchet exhaled dramatically and slammed his fist on the table. “So what now? There’s no way she’s coming back alive.”

“We could send a group to retrieve her.” Prowl looked towards the Prime sitting at the head of the table. 

Optimus nodded and dimmed his optics, deep in thought.

“We can’t afford to lose Nova.” Prowl continued. “She’s one of our best officers. Either way, we need to bring her back.”

“I think that we’re forgetting something.” Jazz said. 

“What?”

“Smokescreen.”

“What do you mean?” Ratchet asked. 

“The sparkling will need CNA donations soon, and with Smokescreen gone that will be impossible to do.”

“How far along is she?”

“Don’t know. Neither of us did.”

“Did she,” Ratchet paused. “Open her spark chamber?”

“She did.” Jazz nodded. “I can’t remember how long ago, but she did it and saw the new spark.”

Ratchet started writing on one of the spare data pads scattered on the table. “Did she check her spark before or after Smokescreen left?”

“After.”

He scribbled all the more violently.

“How long has Smokescreen been gone?” he asked. 

Prowl answered. “About five decacycles.”

He finished his writing and placed the stylus on the table top. The other three mechs waited patiently for his verdict. 

“Well, I’m guessing that she’s between eight and thirteen decacycles in.” he said. “Of course, this is a very rough estimate considering the fact that I have no sort of readings to go off of.”

“So she’ll need CNA donations soon?” Prowl asked. 

“Soon, if not now.”

“So what now?” Jazz asked. 

There was a moment of silence. This was usually the part where Prowl brought up the protocol for a certain situation. But there was no protocol for something as bizarre as this. 

Primus, where did they go from here?

“I think we’ve got another problem on our servos.” Prowl said. 

Ratchet was taken aback, and in his frustration, he spat, “What, Prowl?”

“Smokescreen.”

Ratchet sputtered. “Yes, we know. He’s not here and neither is she.”

“No.” Prowl stated simply. “If he comes back early.”

There was an air of silence. They still didn’t understand Prowl’s point, but knew that he wouldn’t have said something unless he thought it was important. 

“He’ll be angry, very angry.” Prowl continued, “It’ll be hard to control him once he finds out, maybe even impossible.”

The other mechs suddenly understood. Sires were notorious for getting aggressive when they believed their family was in danger. And a powerful mech like Smokescreen, someone who was known in the past for having mental health issues, could easily get out of hand. 

“He’ll demand to go after her. Which typically wouldn’t be that big of an issue, except for that fact that he may come back wounded. And to top it off, his helm will be clouded with his protocols running rampant. He’ll be as bad as Nova.” Prowl turned back around the screen. “However, he isn’t expected to be back for quite some time. As long as he doesn’t come before or during the retrieval mission, there shouldn’t be any issue.”

“And if he does?” Ratchet asked. 

There was yet again another period of silence. Prowl kept his back turned to the other officers, a silent admittance of defeat. Jazz kept to himself in his own mind. 

After several second, the two officers at the table slowly turned towards their Prime, silent in deep thought. 

“We will act accordingly.” he said. “If Smokescreen wishes to join, we will let him.”

“What?” Ratchet said. “We’ll let him come?”

“If he desires.”

“Prime, that’s suicide!”

Optimus raised a servo. “If what Prowl says comes true, than there will be no controlling Smokescreen.”

Ratchet fell silent. 

“In the meantime,” Prime began again. “We will act accordingly and will assemble a team of soldiers we can trust with this secret. Until both creators are present, secrecy will be one of our top priorities. Prowl,” he nodded to said mech. “I will be trusting you to formulate a plan for the mission. Jazz, you will be choosing which soldiers are fit for this missions, ones we can trust to keep this secret. And Ratchet, I will need you to use the data you have to give us an accurate portrayal of Officer Nova’s condition.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tell me how i did lmao


	6. Late at Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yea im back

Ratchet tossed a data pad onto his desk and flopped back into his chair. He ran a servo over his face plates in exhaustion. 

It was getting late. 

That meeting had gone on much longer than he had expected. As if he expected the meeting in the first place. Regardless of the time, he was grateful it happened. 

Optimus had ordered him to evaluate Nova’s condition. Ratchet found it rather stupid and redundant. How on Cybertron was he supposed to do that when his patient wasn’t even here?

Really at this point, he could only make speculations and prepare for her arrival. And once Prowl and Jazz had the mission sorted out, he could prepare for that. 

Jazz had already assured him that he’d be needed on the mission. Usually, they’d just send a field medic, but given the graveness of this assignment, they’d need Ratchet. 

And with Ratchet being not only the head medic, but also an officer, he had a strong say on how the mission would go. Meaning, he was allowed to choose which spacecraft they took on the mission. 

The one he chose was by no means small. This particular ship was designed to carry up to ten soldiers with room to spare, perfect considering Jazz wanted a rather large roster for this. 

There was also Nova’s ship to think about. On the ride there, everyone would be on the same ship. But on the way back, Ratchet would be able to dictate who was on the main ship and who was on Nova’s. 

The roudier soldiers would take Nova’s ship, while the more docile ones would stay on the larger one. There was no way in Pit Nova would be terrorized by a couple of soldiers who can’t seem to keep their mouths shut.

* * *

Prowl sat on the edge of his berth, removing his armor piece by piece. Behind him was Jazz, turning off the light and climbing underneath the blankets. Prowl felt servos ghost up his back before latching onto his shoulders. 

He rested his helm against Jazz’ servo and leaned back onto the berth. Jazz waited until he was laying down fully before he put his helm on his shoulder.

Prowl offlined his optics as if he was going into recharge. But he found himself unable to online those protocols. There was a nagging feeling in his processor, a question.

Without moving, he directed his attention to the mech beside him. Jazz was contently wrapped up in blankets, as still as could be. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The question was spoken softly. 

“Huh?” he could feel Jazz shift. 

Prowl changed the question, afraid of what Jazz might think from something so blunt. “Why did you wait so long to tell us?”

Jazz tensed. “Prowl,” he sighed. “It wasn’t really my decision.”

“Then,” Prowl paused to collect himself. “Why did Nova wait so long?”

“I don’t know. I guess she was just afraid.”

“This all could have been avoided though.” he whispered. “If she had just told someone. Ratchet at the very least.”

Jazz shifted so he was on his elbows, looking at Prowl through the darkness. “Prowl.” he said. “That’s what you would have done. No one else is as calculated and as coordinated as you.”

Prowl was silent. 

“She had a plan. She wanted to wait for Smokescreen, but things kept getting in the way.”

Prowl asked. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Jazz laid his helm back on Prowl’s shoulder. “She made me swear not to.”

* * *

A sly smile crept onto Smokescreen’s faceplates. He ejected the drive and grasped it in his palm, relishing in the information hidden within. 

His digit pressed onto the side of his helm as he said, “Head back to the ship, we’ve got the information needed.”

He received several ‘Yes sirs’ in reply. Smokescreen gripped the drive in his servo and waltzed out of the control room. 

There was a slight bounce in his step as he made his way down the corridor. He took one particularly large leap over a forgotten corpse. Energon clung to the bottom of his pedes, leaving a smudges trail in his wake. 

He turned a corner and saw a lone soldier hunched over in the corner. The Decepticon noticed him with a jump and drew his gun.

“Stay back!” he shrieked. 

Smokescreen did not falter. The Decepticon took a step back, trying to keep his ground but still fearing for his life. 

“Well,” Smokescreen mused. “Seems like I missed one.”

He sounded so easy going. It made the Decepticon all the more uneasy. 

“I typically never my enemy unless I have to.” he added. “I’m usually one to avoid confrontation, but it just seemed so right this time.”

The soldier took another step back. 

“But I’m getting tired.” Smokescreen said. “So I’ll spare you.”

Smokescreen was right next to him now. The soldier tried to hug the wall to get as far away from his as possible, gun still rattling in his servos. 

“But only if you wait a few joors before alerting the main ship about what happened here. I don’t want to be stopped on my way home. I’ve already had enough action for one mission.” Smokescreen said. 

He continued on his way and made it to the tarmac where his other soldiers were assembling. They climbed up the ramp and made it to the control room. 

Smokescreen took his seat in the large chair in the front. He looked to the mech at the control panels and nodded to him. 

“Full speed.” he said. “I’m anxious to get back.”


	7. We Have A Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ay lmao. i havent posted in awhile because ive been moving... yeah

“Sir!” Prowl heard someone call from behind him. 

He glanced over his shoulder and saw a soldier hurrying towards him. The mech stopped in front of him and saluated. 

“Sir,” he stated. “There is an approaching Autobot ship set to arrive in six joors.”

Six joors? There was no one set to arrive so soon.

“At ease.” Prowl said and walked past the soldier towards the monitors. “Who is it?”

“Ship number 00260. Officer Smokescreen is onboard with his team. They inform us that their mission was successful.”

If he could pale, he would’ve done so right then. 

“Thank you.” Prowl uttered before rushing away.

He disappeared down a corridor and made his way to his office. Once inside, he slammed the door shut and leaned against his desk. 

He pressed a button on the side of his helm and said,”Prime, we have a problem.”

* * *

“What do you mean he’s here?” Ratchet yelled. 

“He’s not here.” Prowl said. “Yet.”

“And what do you suggest we do once he does get here, Prowl?”

Prowl sighed and pressed a servo to his forehelm. “Well first, we’ll send him to the med bay for his post mission check up. That’ll buy us some time.”

“And after that?” Ratchet persisted. “Who will tell him the situation?”

“I’ll give it a try.” Prowl said. “I’ve seen Smokescreen mad before. It usually doesn’t last long.”

“But Nova’s not here to talk him down.” Jazz added. 

“He can take it out on the battlefield.” Ratchet huffed. “I’m assuming we’ll have to take him now.”

“It appears so.” Prowl turned his helm towards Jazz. “Who else is coming, Jazz?”

“The both of you, myself, Mirage, Ironhide, Sideswipe, and Sunstreaker.”

A decently large roster for such a quick mission. But it was understandable.

“The twins might be a problem.” Ratchet said. “We’ll just have to keep them from provoking Smokescreen.”

They all had to agree on that one. The twins were notorious for poking where they shouldn’t.

“Have they been debriefed yet?” Ratchet asked. 

“No,” Prowl said. “I wanted to wait until we were closer to the departure.”

Good thinking on Prowl’s part. If they were given more time on base with this delicate intel, they’d be more likely to spread it. Again, the twins were the main culprit of this. 

“Right.” Ratchet grunted. “Well, I’ll prepare the med bay for Smokescreen. I might even get Ironhide down here if Smokescreen gets too out of hand.”

Prowl nodded. “I’ll summon the drafted soldiers and explain the situation to them. I assume they’ve already been notified on the mission.”

“They have.” Jazz said. “And I’ll use this opportunity to alert Prime on the situation.”

The three mechs all gave a nod and left the room to pursue their assignments.

* * *

Prowl stood at the entryway between the landing pad and the inside section of the base. He watched in silence as the small aircraft landed on top of the large white ‘X’. 

The ship touched base and powered down. A ramp extended from a slit in the ship as the door slid open. 

A group of soldiers appeared in the door frame, Smokescreen being in the front of them all. They marched down the ramp and dispersed amongst themselves. 

Smokescreen made it to the bottom and walked to Prowl. He gave his brother a short nod before following him down the hall. 

“The mission was successful, I assume?” Prowl asked. 

Smokescreen smirked and shoved the drive in front of Prowl’s face plates. “Does this answer your question?”

Prowl took the drive. “Yes, thank you.” he said. “Ratchet wanted to see you for your post mission check up.”

Smokescreen groaned. “Can’t it wait a few joors?”

“Unfortunately, no. It’s part of protocol, Smokescreen.”

He groaned again. “Can you send in Nova at the very least?”

Prowl bit back his wince. Primus, this was going to be difficult. 

“Nova was sent on a mission.”

“What?” Smokescreen yelled. “Primus, you’re kidding right?”

They entered the med bay, still deep in conversation. 

“I’m afraid not.”

“When is she coming back?”

There was the slightest pause. “Soon.”

Smokescreen turned his attention towards Ratchet who was steadily approaching. 

“Alright Ratch,” he said. “Let’s just get this over with.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its a bit short and i cant remember exactly what i wrote, but tell me how i did.


End file.
